Blog Tour- STORIES WE TELL OURSELVES - 18/4/18

Blog Tour 

STORIES WE TELL OURSELVES

By SARAH FRANÇOISE 

On my Blog Today I have the pleasure of Sharing with you.....

Stories We Tell Ourselves!

I would like to thank Clare Gordon from Head of Zeus and Sarah Françoise for inviting me on the Blog Tour.

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Book Information 

An illuminating, amusing, beautifully written meditation on relationships

Written with a rare precision and insight, Sarah Françoise explores the
thorniness of familial love and its capacity to endure with warmth, wit and
disarming honesty.
Frank and Joan's marriage is in trouble. Having spent three decades navigating
the trials and tribulations of enduring love and parenthood in their unfinished
house in the French alps, Joan’s frustrations with her inattentive husband have
reached breaking point. Frank, retreating ever further into his obscure hobbies, is
distracted by an epistolary affair with his long-lost German girlfriend. Things are
getting tense. But it’s Christmas, and the couple are preparing to welcome home
their three far-flung children.
The children, though, are faring little better in love themselves. Maya, a gender
expert mother-of-two, is considering leaving her family and running off with a
woman; Wim is considering leaving his girlfriend; and Lois, who spends her time
turning war documentaries into love poems, is facing a change of heart.

CLICK.➡ Here to Purchase from Amazon UK!

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Extract

It was a couple of weeks later that Liz kissed her. The kiss was like a question, beginning to end. In the next few weeks, Maya had seen her love-troops retreat. She stopped working on Cole and instead moved on to another fortress, one that looked like no other victory or collaboration before. But Cole thought of himself as still won over, was still in thrall to Maya’s hawkish perfection and will, and she had kept up the ruse, throwing a shadow army at him to keep things ticking along, but deploying her strategy on Liz.

Maya lay back on the bed and pushed her hand down into her jeans. She left the hand there, and Liz walked into the room with a cup of tea, her wet hair wrapped in a towel. All of Liz’s towels were those waffly cotton ones. She was one of those people who only ever washed whites with other whites. The towels always looked like they had just come from the shop. Maya sat up in bed and stretched her hand to take the cup of tea Liz had just made.

Maya wiggled up the bed and cupped her hand.

She was tired. Too tired to think of Liz in that way. She imagined Liz as a bed to sleep on, and her head fell to the side. Her mother would understand. Cole would talk to her mother, fill her in on the progress of the second bathroom renovation and how much Gitsy liked her teachers at Franklin Montessori. He would tell her mother that they didn’t want the children spoiled rotten this year. No more than five presents each. Nothing that needed batteries. He’d show interest in the dog. Yes, he could be relied on and she could sleep, with her hand on Liz.

Maya lifted her phone up to her face and typed.

Don’t make me go to sleep in a room with a green carpet without you.

She sent the message and her arm flopped down on the bed. She thought of how bad it would be to fall asleep with her phone on, wide open, with its 300 messages to Liz. Before she turned the phone off she wrote one last message. Liz’s wet hair would leave a sopping halo on the pillow. The tea was a special blend of herbs Liz had come up with just for her. Gingko for her circulation problems and valerian for her unreliable sleep patterns.

Don’t make me go to sleep in a room with a green carpet without you.

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Author Bio

Sarah Françoise is a French-British writer and translator currently living in Brooklyn, NYC. Her writing has appeared in Joyland, Bone Bouquet, Hobart and Poor Claudia.

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STORIES WE TELL OURSELVES

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